Snow dusts the hills
Rice flour on sourdough crust
Endless patterns
In burnished bronze
No subject
No object
No meaning
The explorer’s
Essential pleasure
Existential textures
Snow dusts the hills
Rice flour on sourdough crust
Endless patterns
In burnished bronze
No subject
No object
No meaning
The explorer’s
Essential pleasure
Existential textures
I wait my turn
Impatient
For the opportunity
To challenge
The sky
Leave the storm sodden Earth
Rise into the promise
Of light
Breaking through the cloud
But why?
Why wait?
Is not the sky
Beckoning?
Are these not wings
To lift me?
There is no control tower
No queue for the runway
My hand rests
On the throttle
All that’s needed
Is the will to engage
The engines
You, dear one
On your own stormy passage
Astride God’s wing
These waning days
Rising through your fall
Into His grace
Slowed in wit and voice
Ever keener of spirit
You ascend
Passing through
Deep featureless slumbers
Parting clouds offer
Fleeting glimpses of the love
Gathered ’round you
Then
With swift finality
Through the cloud
Into heaven’s azure
There to witness
God’s full blaze
And in His embrace
The lesser stars
Of those who’d passed
This way before
And there too
The One True Love
You’d lost so long ago
Now with God
He welcomes your return
To Love’s eternity
Sometimes
I am reminded
The best path
Is not always direct
The best place
Is not always familiar
The best means
Is not always expedient
Sometimes
A leisurely pace
Into the unknown
Offers the surest road
To a cherished end
As yet unidentified
Some places draw me in
With the embrace of an old friend
Not seen in far too long
In a moment between breaths
Clear my lungs
Clear my mind
Clear my heart
In this realm
Of sunset otherness
The heavy sigh of engines
In smooth air
As a world of cares and worries
Slides by far below
Soon enough to be rejoined
I take another breath
Feel the gentle decline
Back to Earth
Take another breath
Close my eyes
Imagine myself
In flight forever
Concerns and attachments
All suffering
Spread across the surface
Of a small globe
Above which I can choose to float
So when I choose again
To walk the Earth
I may appreciate both
Its suffering and joy
Its love and discontent
Its beauty and ugliness
Its hardship and kindness
With another breath
Empty my lungs
Empty my heart
Empty my mind
Of attachment
To one state or another
For it is the attachment
To a state of being
Which creates the suffering
Not the state of being
“Cabin attendants prepare for arrival”
Fuck Qatar Airways
Customs Delay Missed Connect
$295 to rebook